Page 3 of Ensnared

Troublein a shapeless sack of an outfit.

AsImove closer, her attention fastens on me, evaluating the new threat.Thosegray-blue eyes hit me like a punch to the gut.Piercing, intelligent—in seconds that gaze has me stripped bare and measured from the toes up.Hereyes would be almost too light for her face, if not for the striking darker blue ring around her irises and the thick, sooty lashes that frame them.They’reso long they brush her glasses as she blinks.

Iset my feet and quirk a brow, meeting her stare and giving her the same once-over, strangely unsettled.Myskin feels hot and tight in the face of her frightened pride.

Herthick, dark hair is secured in a tight bun, though sweaty, curly strands fly about her jaw, pulled from their confines.Shehas a regal face, but full, sensuous lips belie her stern expression.Thoselips are trembling now, though she’s trying to press them together.

Andthat’s a problem.

Hernervousness excites me—it pricks my instincts hard—and a raw, unexpected picture of those lips wrapped slickly around my cock slides into my mind.

Fuck.Wedon’t have time for this.Damnher for being nervous.

Damnme for wanting to taste her fear.

Idrag my eyes to the man next to her. “Beau, forget it.Let’sgo.”

Myfriend snorts, not even looking back at me.ThistimeIcan’t suppress a scowl.Theothers follow me pretty much without question—evenJasper, no matter what he pretends—but it’s hard to order someone around who’s pulled shrapnel out of your ass.

Thegirl’s attention goes back toBeauas he gently grasps her ankle.Herbulky pants have been torn and mended so many times the length is uneven around her calves.

“Don’t,” she whispers.

Myjaw clenches.Hervoice is deeper thanIwas expecting, rich and husky as hell.Avoice made for sex.

Beautenses as well.

No.Wedefinitelydo not have time for this.

“Beaumont,”Iwarn.

Heglances back at me with a dry look.

“Dominic,” he mimics.

“It’snot happening.”

“Justgonna get her fixed up is all.”Beaudoesn’t shift from his easy crouch, though his thumb starts stroking gentle circles on the girl’s tense calf.

I’mgoing to kick my friend’sSouthernass from here to home if he doesn’t move.

Slowly,Beau’sother hand moves to the heavy pack at his side and rummages about, and he pulls out a small brown bottle, then turns it so she can see the label.Shetracks every move.

“Iodine, darlin’.Nothingto hurt you.”Hepauses. “Well, she might sting like a bitch, butI’mguessing you’ve faced worse.”Hisvoice is low and soothing as he unwraps the filthy cloth around her foot.Sheflinches, but he doesn’t slow. “Comeon, now.Infectionis worse thanI’llever be,Ipromise you that.”

Shedoesn’t relax but doesn’t stop him either.Afterwetting the area, he wipes away the grime around the wound with a clean cloth and then soaks a fresh one.

Beauhas always been good with women.

Andhorses.

Andchildren.

Hissteady manner puts people at ease.Unlikeme, who puts people on edge.Heatherwas the only one who never backed down from me—she threw back every bit of temperIhad with an impressive one of her own.

Unexpectedpain slices into me andIscowl.Thefuck?Ihaven’t thought aboutHeatherin months.

Myexpression frightens our little field mouse again, and she pulls back like she’s planning on melting into the tree.Thisone is no wildcat, that’s for damn sure.

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